The Woman behind the curtain
by walther-wolf
Summary: Sometimes one would come so close. They would be right in so many ways, but wrong for her and for eternity. They would choose against her eventually. And it broke her heart every time.


The man behind the Curtain – March 21, 2010 –

Constructive criticism is welcomed whole heartedly.

Had anyone bothered to peek their heads into her room and take a gander at the dainty figure therein, they would have been nothing short of startled by what surrounded her. Trinkets flew through the air with speed and accuracy, flowing toward and away from one another in an intricate pattern throughout the dimly lit space. Sitting in the middle of the room in a rather comfortable looking purple chair she sat, munching on a brownie. Her plate, covered in chocolate crumbs and a few more of the dark chocolate morsels moved, in contrast to the clockwise air dancing objects, counterclockwise in a lazy stuttering motion at shoulder level around her, right next to a half empty glass of milk.

She faced toward her off white empty southern wall watching intently, the rooms single large window behind her. Her hazel eyes focused on the crisp high definition images flowing before her – projected by nothing but her own will. A man with short brown hair, dressed casually in sweats, lay across a bed reading a novel. The picture took up nearly all of her wall, stretched from corner to corner. As the glass of milk wobbled by, her small hand shot out and snagged it from the air, lowering it to her lips as she took a swig.

Idly she observed him; slightly put down that Yuki had been influencing him so much to bring about such an interest in books. He didn't use to take so much time with them. She watched as his phone rang and he lifted his hand to dog ear the page he was on. Setting the book down he rolled off the bed and grabbed his cellular from his desk across the room. The picture on her wall never faltering as the angles changed, the unseen and nonexistent cameraman drifting in time to his movements, flowing through the space in the faraway room in Kyon's house. His voice flowed out dryly as he greeted Koizumi. He drifted into conversation with him. They were talking about her behind her back again. Or so they thought.

She smiled.

His world was so small. Their world was so small.

They were all so blissfully ignorant as to their own existence, to their purposes and reasons for living. They were of course convinced by their own importance, filling the roles she gave them with almost eager delight. Oh, Kyon wasn't far off in his understanding of his role in life – he knew that his existence depended on her being happy, but the depth to that role he did not truly comprehend; she had investments in him, in what she wanted him to be. After all, everyone needed companionship. Why should she, a God, be so different? He didn't realize quite what his existence was leading to, why he was surrounded by the people he was surrounded by, nor why he dealt with the trials he had. But he did have a minor understanding of what it took to keep himself alive. The others though, their understandings of what their purposes were, were rather skewed.

She had started things out quite nicely. Before this world was, and after another had ended – a life well lived but once again an experiment failed – she had sat down, again, and had plotted out, again, exactly what she would want in her partner. Coming back, as one might say, to the drawing board of eternity to assemble, yet again, a new world and a new set of possibilities to test and to try and to prove a being worthy of her time. She frowned slightly, not exactly one worthy of her time. They had all been. Rather – one who would be worthy of her time, and would simply choose her. Planning out an existence of exactly what it would take to get those desired qualities and characteristics in that particular partner, and having that particular partner desire her in return – it was no easy feat.

Several hundred thousand years had testified to that.

And so once more, she was living the experiment. New faces, slightly different personalities, but always the same task.

Her hand released the prisoner glass of milk, and it drifted lethargically back into its pathway, floating side by side with the plate. Slowly she lifted her arm from the rich purple arm rest and passed her hand through her shoulder length brown hair. Her eyes trailed the form on the wall as he paced while taking his call. She had opened up a closed space a little while earlier. Koizumi was calling about this.

Plastered to her wall, Kyon's form Ceased it's pacing and slid downward planting itself on his bed. Koizumi explained to him now, explained to him in his falsely smiling voice, in assuredly only hinting manners, about what he and his organization believed must have happened. He explained that Kyon had upset her, or rather, her persona at school that day. That as a result she, Haruhi – God of their existence, had emotionally de-stabilized and had opened up this closed space to vent her frustrations with him. He explained that Kyon must be more careful, more pleasing, and less resistant. He pressed the boundaries of Kyon's personality.

Kyon's face was that of stone throughout the entire explanation and mild accusation. She had watched him take so many calls like this before. How many more pieces of straw would it take, before the camel's back broke?

The last one hadn't even made it through the second year in High school. He had simply up and stopped trying.

Kyon was more resilient though.

More resilient than most. Hopefully more resilient than them all.

Back at the eternal drawing board, amidst the development of time and life – before even the first experimental world had been formed, she had taken a long time thinking over what would be the best way to help her prospective partners develop according to her desires. What tasks and trials it would take to help them along the way, and to foster the correct characteristics to help them endure, and enjoy, an eternity with her – and to help her endure and enjoy an eternity with them. These events had revolved solely around the purpose for their existence – helping her lovingly crafted soul mate become exactly that, who would in turn choose her to be his loving soul mate.

Closed space was a simple answer to an odious problem. It gave the candidate a choice of action, and absolved her of being the direct disciplinary hand in whatever the matter had become. Once the candidate understood what the problem was, they could choose her way, choose to adjust and appease, or choose their own way – and with it more problems. One could almost equate it with a water bottle and a cat. Rules exited for the cat in the household, rules that when broken were dealt with by the bottle of water – helping to shape and adjust the actions, and attitude, of the household pet. For her and him though, it was slightly more complex than not being allowed to jump on the table, or to eat the flowers.

After all, a soul mate is worth quite a bit more than a pet. How he reacted to the closed space – to being sprayed with water as it were – was all that really mattered. With some things she did want to truly change him, but with some she desired for him to take a stand. A soul mate with no personality would truly be a sad state of affairs. A small hand once again shot out, this time heading straight for the dark chocolate brownies resting on the plate now hovering directly to her left. It wobbled slightly as she snatched a smaller one from the top of the ever decreasing stack. Boundaries were established by the closed spaces, helping the candidate to choose whether or not they truly wanted to become involved in a relationship with her.

Coupled with those closed spaces had to come a messenger, someone who could correctly interpret the closed spaces for what they were, and relay that information to the candidate in an appropriate fashion – becoming as it were, the bearer of bad news, shifting most of the pressure, the anger, and the confusion from her to him.

A soft smile adorned her face; Koizumi had been doing an excellent job in this iteration of the world. Not that any of the others had performed poorly. They had all more or less done exactly the same. Their names may have been different, but they were always filled the exact parameters. Their souls – the things that defined them, were however, always different. They ran the gamut of existence.

It was interesting, she thought idly, how a soul defined, finitely, a person – even with the exact same features, the exact same trials in life – even when the soul itself – crafted by her own hands and with her own powers, was created the exact same way, they would and always had, turn out different somehow.

The temptresses, they too were always the same in creation – and always the same in her plans, but never the same in deed. To be true, they were always polar opposites – both in the areas she had direct control of, the looks for instance; but always opposites in every way she couldn't control them – in action, in desire, and in love. Many of her candidates had fallen to their charms; having chosen, even after much warning to embark on a road leading far, far away from her, and deep into the waiting arms – or rather bosoms – of one of the two girls set up to test them.

It was difficult for her, to have invested so much of herself in so many. To have loved and lost so many times. Each time, the experiment would start and she would be so hopeful – seeing so much promise in them – seeing so much love in them. And they would grow, and develop, and they would change. They would choose to be apart from her, even after she had loved them. After she had hoped so much.

Sometimes one would come so close. They would be right in so many ways, but wrong for her and for eternity. They would choose against her eventually. And it broke her heart every time. To invest so much in someone, to love them so purely, and to try and help them become more than they were, only to have them abandon her, in search of something less fulfilling, and less rewarding, all because it was easier – less demanding. It left an ache in her heart, of such horrible pain and anguish.

Her tears were worth so little to them.

Human choice – the ability to act, when motivated – or rather – enticed by something, or someone, was exactly what the problem was, exactly what the spice of life was, and exactly why having someone finally choose her would be such a fulfilling experience, for time and for eternity.

Her eyes snapped forward and followed the action on the wall in front of her.

Kyon's fingers clasped the now closed flip phone, and haphazardly dropped it onto the floor next to his bed. His knees buckled and he dropped backward, flopping with all the force of a hundred and sixty pounds onto the barely yielding rusty springs and dense fluff of down blankets. Nimbly his hands crawled upward to massage his scalp.

His eyes pulled open, heavy and tired, as his lips moved of their own accord. "Why do these things have to happen to me?" he sighed out. His voice sounded exasperated. His eyes then drooped shut, and his hands snapped down onto the bed around him, making the sheets clap with a dull noise. His sheets settled, and his breathing slowed as Haruhi licked the last of the dark chocolate brownie crumbs and its melting chocolate chips off her fingers. The objects whizzing around the empty space in her room slowed in pace, and started to move back into their assigned places. A stuffed animal here, a paper weight there, all her pens smoothly flowing back into the large cup on her desk, the now empty glass of milk – with its sheen of white on the glass and the plate bearing only two brownies settling by her chair, and everything appeared as normal.

Her eyes closed, and the room's light dissipated as the picture on the wall faded away, replaced in her mind's eye.

In his dreams she could now see, the young man who had stood with her in closed space, who had held her shoulders and expressed his desire for the life he had been leading – for the life with her. In his dreams she saw, as he had pulled her in for a kiss – a true kiss, backed by innocence and a young growing love. In her mind's eye she saw it all, and hope filled her, as she smiled.

So yeah. Hi. This was kind of on the back burner in my brain. I rather like the idea that Haruhi actually knows what's going on. And has a reason for it.

This … yeah.

If you find any faults, spelling or grammar, do please let me know.


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